


Confidence

by cupcake4mafia



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Bisexuality, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Shame, awkward text messages, but Nino's still got issues, guilty sex, unpacked baggage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-20 23:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4805834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupcake4mafia/pseuds/cupcake4mafia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A piece of anonymous gossip starts to unravel what little separation remains between Nino's personal and professional life. Snapping under the pressure, he says something to Ohno that he can't take back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to [waxrose](http://archiveofourown.org/users/waxrose/pseuds/waxrose), [samansucks](http://archiveofourown.org/users/samansucks/pseuds/samansucks), [near-misses](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nearmisses/pseuds/nearmisses) and [spurious](http://archiveofourown.org/users/spurious/pseuds/spurious) for looking at various incarnations of this and continuing (hopefully?) to listen to me whine about it not being perfect. I'm sorry for posting in chapters, but looking at everything in one document was getting overwhelming.
> 
> My greatest struggle with writing this has been how little I really know about the Japanese entertainment industry these days. So, I decided to fake it. All non-Johnnys celebrities (and one Junior) within this story are fictional.

> _**BLIND ITEM:** There’s a certain Johnnys talent known for being wholesome on-screen and a bit of a scoundrel off-screen. Agencies warn their actresses to keep their distance, but should they start warning their actors, too?_

Aiba texts Nino a picture of the blurb early in the morning, adding: **watch out for this guy he sounds dangerous ;)**

Less than thirty seconds later, Sho and Jun send almost identical texts asking him to call ASAP.

Nino's just switching screens when a text from Ohno arrives:

**ehhh??? is it you?**

Nino smiles.

 _ **are you calling me a scoundrel?** _ he replies.

**a bit of a scoundrel**

_**must be me then** _

Flopping back on his bed, Nino decides he might as well call Jun and get it out of the way.

"I have Sho on hold, I'm trying to talk him down," Jun says when he picks up.

He doesn't sound worried or even annoyed, Nino realizes. He sounds more amused than anything.

“How are you doing that?” Nino asks.

“I told him no one would actually believe it, and even if they do, it’s pretty good publicity for your drama.”

Nino snorts.

There’s nothing quite like your director sending you home with a DVD “for research” only to find out that your drama’s entire plot is a cheap, neutered-for-TV knock-off of an American play. At least after watching _Six Degrees of Separation_ Nino knows that all the sexual tension between his character and the 18-year-old son of the family he’s conning is actually intentional.

“Do you film today?” Jun asks.

“Yeah, I need to get ready.”

“I’ll catch up with you later, then.”

“Later,” Nino replies, automatically.

He stares at the phone after he hangs up, unsure whether he’s forgotten some plan or if Jun is just inviting himself over again.

 **I didn't know you still did that** Ohno texts.

Nino didn't particularly want any of them to know he "still did that," but here it is.

_**feeling left out?** _

He waits two minutes for a response before dragging himself out of bed and on to the balcony for a smoke. He wonders if the joke is too much right now. He hates that he has to wonder.

Finally, he hears a chime from inside.

**very T^T**


	2. Chapter 2

_Alone in the Arita house, Naoki cases the master bedroom. Looking through the walk-in closet, he tries on one of Father’s watches, gazing expressionless at himself in the mirror before carefully returning it to its box. He opens a bottom drawer on Mother’s side of the closet and smirks when he finds neatly folded lace lingerie. The smile quickly falls, though, as he goes through her vanity and turns up only costume jewelry._

_Finally, he finds a lockbox tucked away under the couple's massive canopy bed._

_"Naoki?" Nobu calls, off-screen._

_Naoki straightens up to meet the Aritas' son in the hallway._

_"Thank God you're here," Nobu groans, not questioning why Naoki's just come out of the master bedroom. "Asuka's here. I don't know what I was thinking I just...invited her over. She's in the living room."_

_"You left her alone in there? What kind of host are you?"_

_"A boring one. Please, help me."_

_Naoki joins the two in the living room and awkward polite conversation follows. Knowing how badly Nobu wants to impress Asuka, Naoki suggests he show them Father’s locked study. Nobu doesn’t hesitate._

_Naoki freezes when Nobu unlocks the door, taking in the massive Shozo Shimamoto canvas hanging on the opposite wall. Quickly, he shifts back into character, pretending to be more interested in a collection of first-edition books. He hands Asuka Confessions of a Mask and asks her to turn to any page and start reading. She does, and Naoki finishes the sentence for her while staring right into Nobu's eyes. A moment of tense silence follows, diffused by the sound of a car door closing outside. The three of them giggle as they scramble to leave the room. Naoki glances back at the Shimamoto one more time before closing the door behind them._

 

* * *

 

After he's given the go-ahead to change into his own clothes for a bit, Nino hopes to catch a nap in the dressing room. Naturally, just as he's resting his eyes, his young co-star shuffles in.

Haruya is barely 19, but Nino knows that approaching 20 without a debut feels like a death sentence to a Junior these days. The kid has taken to tailing him everywhere lately, as if he’s trying to soak up every last bit of this association with Arashi before filming ends. Nino finds the attention equal parts endearing and annoying, which is _perfect_ to put him in the mood to play Naoki, but exhausting when he’s trying to take a break. Playing “senpai” still feels like just that - playing. When casting was first announced for the drama, Nino only vaguely remembered that Haruya had danced at Arashi’s last concert and needed Aiba tell him the name of the unit.

“Ninomiya-san, do you mind if I…?”

“Sit,” Nino tells him.

He stops himself from rolling his eyes when Haruya sits in a styling chair on the other side of the room and stares down at his script.

“You don’t have your lines memorized yet?” Nino teases.

“Of course I-” Haruya stops short, blushing. “I _do_ have them memorized. I’m reading through the rest of the script.”

“Why? If Nobu wasn’t there, then he doesn’t know what happened.”

“I guess I’m just curious. I mean, I watched that DVD and…” Haruya raises his eyebrows and lets out one stilted laugh. “I didn’t really bring anything else to do, anyway.”

“Here,” Nino reaches into his bag and hands Haruya one of his games. “There’s a free save slot on this one.”

Haruya takes the system with both hands, eyes boggling as though Nino is gifting him some ancient sword. For a while, it’s nice and quiet, but Nino still feels it would be too rude to take a nap so he tries to get himself invested in a puzzle game on his phone.

“Aiba-san said you have a lot of retro game consoles at your place,” Haruya speaks up.

“I have _every_ retro game console at my place,” Nino corrects him.

He looks up and finds Haruya actually facing him for once.

“Do you think I could visit and play games sometime?” Haruya asks, the pitch of his voice almost half an octave higher than usual.

Nino shrugs. “Sure.”

“Let me give you my number, then.”

Nino hands over his phone and watches as Haruya enters his information. Haruya looks nervous as hell, which makes Nino smile - until an unbidden thought comes sneaking up from the back of his mind.

Quietly clearing his throat, Nino says: “How about this weekend, then? You can invite Takuji and Keita and I’ll see what Aiba is up to.”

Haruya looks up at him, eyes wide. Nino keeps his smile steady.

“Yeah, that would be great!” Haruya agrees, quickly recovering.

There’s a hint of relief in his face that makes Nino’s stomach churn. He tries to shake it off as he puts away his phone, but it stays there, a whispering in the back of his head: _Haven’t you heard? Ninomiya lures Juniors over to his apartment to play Super Mario and then-_

Thankfully, Haruya is called to film a scene without Nino. Isamu takes his place with nothing more than a nod and opens up a paperback novel. Nino closes his eyes.

“They sure are paying a lot of money for you to wait around today, huh?”

Nino opens one eye to look at Isamu, not even hiding his annoyance at being interrupted.

“I can’t complain,” he admits.

Isamu chuckles, dog-earing his page before setting his book to the side.

“If we manage to get out of here sometime before midnight, would you want to get a drink?”

“Sure.” Nino looks up at the ceiling, biting the inside of his cheek to stifle a laugh. He stretches out his hand. “Let me give you my number.”

 

* * *

 

It’s almost 11:00 when filming finally wraps. Normally Nino wouldn't be too bothered by the fact that his time had been scheduled so poorly, but today was not a great day to sit on a cheap couch and try to entertain himself. Today would have been a good day to be distracted.

He checks his phone on the way out of the building, scrolling past nagging messages from his manager to report his overtime (as if he would forget) and a message chain from Jun most recently updated with a sticker of a penguin holding a gun, until he lands on a text from Isamu.

**still Naoki-kun?**

_**Ninomiya again**_ he responds.

Before he can pocket his phone, it buzzes again.

**up for a drink?**

Nino hangs in the doorway of the building. He’s only dimly aware of the crew members carefully avoiding brushing past him on their way out.

_**where should we meet?** _

Isamu sends back an address that ends with an apartment number. Nino pulls his face mask up quickly to hide his smile as he heads out to the street to hail a cab.

 

* * *

 

In the script, Naoki cheekily refers to the father of the Arita family as “dad,” and Nino’s been doing the same to Isamu for weeks. In reality, Isamu is only fifteen years older than him, but that’s five years over Nino’s usual limit. The whole perfectly-groomed, salt-and-pepper stubble thing isn’t remotely his type, either. Still, it’s been a long time since Nino’s felt the little thrill of knowing he is too young and too hot for someone.

Isamu delivers on that. He opens a vintage bottle of wine. He name-drops. He asks Nino about his “future.” Nino plays his part, laughing at Isamu’s mediocre jokes and acting embarrassed about his own accomplishments. He slides so far back into Naoki that at least once he has to remind himself to call Isamu by his real name. Once they get past the pretense and into the bedroom, Isamu unwraps him like a fucking _gift_.

Nino doesn’t typically bottom, but he doesn’t typically get his ass eaten for ten minutes straight, either. The disbelieving look of “I’m fucking Ninomiya Kazunari” on Isamu’s face when he first pushes inside is just what Nino needs.

 _Yeah,_ he thinks, while he’s still able to think. _I’m fuckin’ Ninomiya Kazunari._

After they get cleaned up, Isamu throws on a robe and lies back in bed. Nino ignores this and starts getting dressed, pleasantly aware of the weight of Isamu’s eyes on his back.

“Do you think you might come over again and play sometime?” Isamu asks, feigning nonchalance. “Or is this the end of our fun?”

Nino cringes. God, he hopes he doesn’t sound like that when he’s fooling around with guys in their twenties.

“Ah, it’s hard to say,” he answers, looking back over his shoulder to flash an apologetic smile. “After this drama wraps up I’ll be preparing for a concert, so...”

Thankfully, Isamu accepts this with a handwave and walks Nino to his door. He hangs there, expectantly, one hand resting on the doorframe. Nino swallows his sudden feeling of disgust and gives one last, polite kiss. Isamu tastes like toothpaste and aftershave - _how the hell is it that old guys can smell like aftershave at one-thirty in the morning?_

In the elevator, finally able to rest his face, Nino looks at his phone out of habit. He scrolls up through the messages from Jun he’s been ignoring all day.

     5:35 PM:   **done filming? come have dinner with me**

     7:22 PM:   **drinks later?**

     8:11 PM:   **yeah, act like you don’t look at your phone every five minutes**

     8:11 PM:   **[a sticker of a penguin crossing his arms]**

     9:46 PM:   **heard you’re actually stuck at filming, sorry [bowing penguin]**

   10:12 PM:   **Leader’s at my place, come drink with us when you’re done**

   10:50 PM:   **JESUS. I don’t care what’s going on, you’ve gotta call me. Leader’s crying about Arashi and I need backup.**

   10:54 PM:   **[penguin holding a gun]**

   12:35 AM: **ok, Chiyo-san says you reported your overtime, so I know you’re not dead…**

Nino steps out into the street, tugging a little at the brim of his hat. He can’t remember when he lost his face mask. He checks that no one’s watching him before he dials Jun’s number.

Jun answers after one ring. “What’s wrong?”

Nino smiles.

“What’s wrong with _you?_ ” he scolds. “If Chiyo comes to filming tomorrow to babysit me it will be your fault, you know.”

“Maybe you need a babysitter,” Jun fires back, words slurring just slightly.

“I need a drink,” Nino admits.

“Too late. We’re tapped out over here.”

“Is Leader still there?”

“Of course,” Jun scoffs. “You think he’d come to my place and drink all my liquor without _also_ passing out drooling on my couch?”

“ _All_ your liquor?”

“To be fair, I really needed to restock.”

Jun is always fair, even when he’s drunk. The thought makes Nino feel warmer and fuzzier than a few glasses of wine can really excuse. He should go ahead and call a cab, but something makes him turn the corner and start walking down the unfamiliar block.

“Crying about Arashi, huh?” he asks.

“At first, yeah, but then…” Jun lowers his voice to an obvious, drunken whisper. “Then he was just crying about you.”

“What? Why?”

“Hold on…just one second…” Nino hears rustling on Jun’s end of the line, then Jun whispers again: “I’m only going to say this sentence once, okay? I’m too old for this.”

Nino stops short and looks over his shoulder. No one’s there. With his free hand, he fishes a cigarette out of the squashed pack in his back pocket and lights it.

“Well?”

Jun sighs. “ _Leader_ thinks that _you_ think that _he_ thinks less of you because you’re bi.”

Nino winces automatically.

“That’s stupid,” he says, dismissive. “Leader adores you, and you’re _actually_ bisexual.”

A long silence follows Nino’s words. He starts walking again to fill it.

Finally, Jun speaks again: “I forget. What is it, exactly, that makes the two of us different? I mean, other than the fact that I don’t _lie_ about it-”

“You’re drunk,” Nino is quick to remind him.

Jun’s not a mean drunk, though. Nino can’t pretend otherwise.

“Yeah,” Jun agrees, sounding tired. “It’s probably best if we talk later.”

He hangs up without waiting to hear Nino’s goodbye.


	3. Chapter 3

_**2002.** _

Nino, Aiba and Jun were huddled in the shade of an umbrella, sharing a beach blanket, while the photographers worked with Ohno and Sho. Nino’s fingers were itching for the game he had left in the van. He cursed himself for actually listening to the instruction to leave everything behind, especially since Jun had completely ignored it and was still playing with his new camera phone.

“Hey, Jun, who are you texting?” Aiba teased, bored enough to bite.

“None of your business."

Aiba rested his chin on Jun’s shoulder and was quickly shaken off. Undaunted, he wrapped his arms around Jun’s waist.

“Is it a special girl?”

“No,” Jun answered, wriggling out of Aiba's arms. "Fuck off."

Nino frowned, trying to ignore them and to hold on to his corner of the blanket.

“Is it a special boy?” Aiba sang.

“Fuck _off!_ " Jun snapped.

He snapped loud and hard enough to make Nino look. His face was red; his hand covering his mouth in a telltale way. For the first time, Nino didn’t wonder - he knew.

Why _now_ though, all of a sudden, after they had made the joke so many times?

Aiba moved away, resting his chin on his knees and trying to look like he wasn't bothered. “You know, if it was a guy, that would be okay,” he mumbled.

Nino looked back to Ohno and Sho, holding giant beach balls over their suits and making shocked faces at each other as a photographer circled them.

“Liar,” Jun tried to laugh when he said it, but his voice was breaking.

Nino bit his lip, debating whether to wade in. Jun’s mood was always on a razor’s edge in those days. It would be their turn to pose soon. They didn’t have much time to calm him down.

Nino jumped as he felt Aiba nudge him in the back with his foot. Annoyed, he turned to shove back.

“Tell him,” Aiba mouthed, pointing.

Nino glanced at Jun and immediately regretted it. Fucking hell. Nino couldn't imagine many things that were more pathetic than Jun's "trying not to cry" face. Frustrated, he pulled his knees to his chest and stared down at the sand just beyond his toes. If anyone had bothered to look their way, they would have made a pretty sad little trio.

“You wouldn’t be the only one,” he finally made himself say.

Jun made a bitter little scoffing sound. “You think I don't know about Tackey?”

“You wouldn’t be the only one who likes _both_ ,” Aiba explained. "Boys and girls."

It wasn't for Aiba to say, and for a second Nino felt like he could slug him right in the face. He knew, though, that Aiba really just wanted to help.

“Huh? Who?”

Aiba darted his eyes in Nino’s direction. Nino hunched down over his knees, frowning.

“Really?” Jun asked.

He asked it so quietly and desperately that Nino had no choice but to look him in the eyes when he nodded. At least Jun's lip had stopped quivering. That was something.

“Who knows?” Jun asked, still looking dumbfounded.

“Aiba. You.”

“And the tour security guy that you-” Aiba started.

“Done!” Nino announced, finally giving him a proper shove.

Jun’s phone buzzed again.

“So, who are you texting?” Aiba asked, shaking sand out of his hair.

“You don’t know him.”

“Do you have a picture?”

“Yeah.”

Nino really didn’t want to be curious, but he couldn't help leaning his head over next to Aiba’s to get a look at the tiny, grainy photo on Jun’s phone.

“Oh, he’s handsome!” Aiba squealed.

Jun shushed him and flipped his phone shut, but he was full-on grinning.

“It’s funny, but somehow that kind of guy makes sense for you,” Aiba mused. “The girls you like always have that ‘cool’ look, too.”

“Okay, okay,” Jun groaned. “That’s enough.”

“Is it serious?”

 _How serious can it be?_ Nino wanted to answer, but he held it back.

Jun fidgeted, worrying the new leather bracelet around his left wrist.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “He told me he doesn’t want me to see anyone else.”

“Ohhh, he’s _that_ type.”

Nino rolled his eyes at Aiba pretending to have any idea what he was talking about. Jun smiled at his expression in a private kind of way, and Nino was surprised how much he liked that.

It might not be so bad, he thought, Jun knowing.


	4. Chapter 4

“Are you going to get a number?” are the first words out of Aiba’s mouth when he enters the dressing room.

Their guests that afternoon are a new comedy duo, Lizi and Suzi, pretty girls in their twenties whose schtick is ripping open their blouses at the end of their sketches to reveal funny t-shirts. Aiba has been sending Nino videos all morning “to prepare,” and Nino has to admit he is looking forward to this recording a bit more than last week’s.

Still, he rolls his eyes and shoots back: “Why don’t _you_ get a number?”

“Ahh, I can’t! None of us can,” Aiba gestures to Sho, deep into his second newspaper, and Jun, curled up into an angry napping ball on the couch. “It’s up to you and Leader, now.”

“There are two of them. You could double date,” Jun teases, voice muffled by his arm.

Nino scoffs. “I’ll get both numbers before he gets one.”

“Greedy,” Aiba giggles, giving up on his attempt to make some space next to Jun and joining Nino on his couch instead. “Where is Leader, anyway?”

“How should I know?”

“I thought you all went out last night.”

“I didn’t make it.”

Nino looks at Jun, but Jun is still a fashionably rumpled pile. He glances at Sho and catches him looking up from his paper. Aiba hums as he plays with his phone, too casual.

They’ve all been talking about him. _Of course._

“Good morning,” Ohno mumbles as he shuffles in.

“It’s almost two!” Nino scolds, on top of Aiba’s cheerful “there he is!”

Ohno squeezes in the tiny space between Nino and the arm of the couch and leans his head on Nino’s shoulder, whining: “Tired…”

In spite of himself, Nino relaxes immediately at the gesture.

“Did you watch any of the videos I sent you?” Aiba asks.

“I woke up an hour ago,” Ohno says, his voice rumbling against Nino’s shoulder.

“Look, look, look,” Aiba insists, crawling into Nino’s lap.

Ohno squints sleepily at the video, until the conclusion. Then, his eyes widen and surprised smile spreads across his face.

“Now watch this one!”

Trying to push Aiba off his lap usually proves futile, so Nino just groans and turns his head away. He catches Sho looking at him _again._ Sho smiles, apologetically, and switches papers. Nino closes his eyes, listening to Aiba and Ohno’s inane giggling.

He knows what Aiba’s doing, because it’s what he’s always doing - aggressively maneuvering the dynamic back to normal.

“Normal” being two fully-grown men in their thirties affectionately suffocating a half-grown man in his.

Their normal.

 

* * *

 

At the end of the show, Lizi and Suzi finish their final sketch by tearing their thin shirts completely in half, revealing tank tops that say “pickled ginger” and “this end up.” Like most of these viral video stars, they really shouldn’t be funny, but they are; Nino has to look away from their deadpan expressions to catch his breath and Sho is still teared up with laughter by the time the director calls “cut.”

Suzi slips Nino her number when he shakes her hand. He winks, then tries to sneak the piece of paper in Aiba’s back pocket as they’re returning to the dressing room.

“Ah, you only got one!” Aiba teases when he catches him.

“I wasn’t even trying.”

“Well, now you have the full set,” Aiba says, producing another note from his front pocket.

“Kids these days,” Nino sighs. “You keep them.”

“They’ll go to waste.”

“Only if you _waste_ them.”

“Thanks, but,” Aiba holds out the note, smiling fondly. “I meant it. I’m out.”

Nino glances down the hall as he pockets the numbers.

“Things are pretty serious, huh?” he asks.

“I brought her to dinner with mom and dad on Saturday,” Aiba confesses, almost a whisper.

Nino makes a loud gagging noise, then smiles as Aiba slaps his arm. They stand like that for a moment, just smiling at each other in the empty hallway.

“You know, you can tell me if you’re seeing someone,” Aiba says.

“I do tell you.”

“Not when it’s a guy,” Aiba argues, shaking his head. “Maybe you tell Jun, then...”

“I don’t ‘see’ guys.”

_I just fuck them._

He doesn’t say it out loud, but he can tell by the way Aiba’s face falls that he hears it anyway. Aiba has always been fascinated by this part of Nino’s life; has always wanted Nino to be more queer than Nino ever really was. Nino's disappointed Jun in that way, too, but Jun seems to accept it more easily.

“I’m fine,” Nino says, reminding himself that’s what Aiba really wants to know.

“I’m sorry I shared the article with Sho. I didn’t know he would freak out.”

Nino almost laughs. It never actually occurred to him to wonder how the four of them heard about the blind item all at once.

“It really doesn’t matter,” he promises.

A staff member comes walking down the hall and Aiba lets it drop.

Sho’s leaving as they come into the dressing room. Nino holds up the two numbers in his face and sticks out his tongue.

“You’re a dog,” Sho laughs, giving him a little shove.

Two down, two to go.

Jun is standing at the mirror, trying to remove the last bit of his eyeliner. Nino steals one of his face wipes and starts to do the same.

“Why penguins?” he asks, glancing at Jun.

“Huh?”

“It’s always penguin stickers now.”

“Oh.” Jun shrugs as he uncaps his travel bottle of moisturizer. “They’re well-dressed.”

Jun hands Nino the moisturizer with a pointed stare and Nino feigns a grimace as he rubs a bit of it into his face. Jun looks like he’s about to say something else, but just shakes his head.

“Dinner with her parents?” Nino asks, noting that Jun looks slightly less hobo chic than usual.

Jun looks over his shoulder so quickly that it makes Nino snort. Of course, no one’s there but Ohno, taking his sweet time to get dressed.

“You,” Jun grumbles.

“You know, Aiba took Risa to meet his parents.”

“I know. He sent me a picture of his pants to make sure they were okay.”

“Okay for _his_ parents?”

“I didn’t say it made sense.”

“What if you all get married at once? Then what will I do?” Nino whines.

“It’s not that kind of dinner tonight,” Jun says, surprisingly candid. “It’s more of a ‘please wait a little longer for us,’ dinner.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Jun sighs, resting his hands on the counter. “Oh.”

If Nino’s counting correctly, this will be the fourth “please wait a little longer for us” dinner. The idea makes him more uneasy than it should - it’s not _Nino's_ engagement on the line. Still, he finds himself throwing an arm around Jun’s waist and giving him a little squeeze.

“Ask Leader if he’s hungry,” Jun says, under his breath.

Nino frowns at Jun’s reflection in the mirror, confused. Jun doesn’t elaborate, just pats Nino’s hand before picking up his bag and leaving the two of them alone.

It would be much stranger not to, so Nino turns and asks: “Hungry?”

 

* * *

 

"Dinner with Ohno" means spending twenty minutes eating ramen in a divey storefront in total silence. Nino has to admit that Jun was right to suggest this; it’s the most relaxed he’s felt all day.

He could start a conversation with the two numbers in his pocket, but halfheartedly watching the news on a wall-mounted TV while occasionally smiling and wrinkling their noses at each other is satisfying enough.

“I won’t see you until Tuesday, right?” Ohno asks, after they’ve divvied up their bill.

“Ah, yeah, that’s right.”

A cab pulls up and Nino gestures for Ohno to take it first. Ohno pauses with his hand on the door and turns back.

“Take care,” he says.

“Take care,” Nino echoes, grinning.

He catches his own cab. He’s almost home when his phone chimes; a text from Ohno.

**nothing’s ever going to change between us**

“Excuse me,” Nino says, getting the cab driver’s attention. “I need to stop at a convenience store. Any one is fine.”

Suddenly he’s holding a six-pack and a Family Mart cashier is looking at him expectantly. He barely remembers going inside.

Dazed, he digs for his wallet with his free hand.

His phone buzzes in his back pocket.

 _Don’t,_ he thinks.

He gets back into the cab, down the next few blocks, up the stairs and into his apartment before he lets himself look at Ohno’s next message.

**right?**

Halfway through his second beer, Nino finally responds:

_**of course stupid** _


	5. Chapter 5

The first time Ohno texts him **goodnight** around midnight, Nino just smiles and ignores it.

The second time, he answers: _**goodnight Satoshi~**_

At two in the morning on a Sunday after almost a full week of these messages, he answers honestly:

_**I’m not tired yet** _

**me neither**

_**what are you doing?** _

**lying in bed**

A picture comes with the text. Ohno’s ceiling - Nino guesses, he’s never seen it.

**you?**

Nino takes a picture of his DS.

_**playing a game** _

Ohno sends back a picture of a book titled “Street World: Urban Art from Five Continents.”

**present from Sho**

**_looks good, why aren’t you reading it?_**

**I was, but then I started thinking about you**

Nino tries, desperately, to think of a smartass response to that. Somehow, he can’t. Putting his phone to the side, he picks up his game.

He hears his text alert chime, but he ignores it until he reaches another save point fifteen minutes later.

**goodnight**

Nino feels an irrational amount of guilt at the thought that Ohno’s gone to sleep thinking Nino doesn’t want to talk to him.

He _hates_ this kind of shit.

 _ **goodnight~**_ he writes back anyway.

 

* * *

 

Their location shoot is rained out, but the director won’t let them all go just yet. Nino can’t figure out why. It’s not like they’re going to get into a hot air balloon in this. Overtime is overtime, though, so he keeps his mouth shut and lazes around with the others at a picnic table inside the park pavilion.

Jun and Ohno take the opportunity to sleep. Sho has his headphones in and is miles away. So, Nino listens with mild interest as Aiba explains that ostriches are actually more attracted to humans than each other.

Then he gets a text from an unknown number.

**Ninomiya-kun! This is Kato Taichi. How are you?**

“The hell?” he thinks aloud, showing the message to Aiba.

“Ehhh?” Aiba whispers, similarly baffled. “That’s lucky, isn’t it?”

It’s been months since Kato Taichi announced his plan to direct an adaptation of a recent bestseller about the Yama-Ichi War. Chiyo seemed squirrelly when Nino asked her about getting an audition, but as far as he knows casting still hasn’t started.

“If he’s contacting me directly, it could mean the Company already told him no,” Nino says, quietly.

Aiba frowns, sympathetic.

Nino’s fingers hover over his phone before he finally types:

_**Kato-chan! I’m well, thank you. We still need to play Tekken together don’t we?** _

For this kind of opportunity, Nino thinks he could pretend to give a shit about button-mashing his way through a fighting game for a night.

**you remembered! (*o* )**

“He uses emoji,” Nino tells Aiba, under his breath.

Aiba giggles, craning his head. Nino pushes him away. Another text arrives.

**I thought it would be nice to have a drink, but Tekken is much better! \\( >u< )/**

**What does your week look like?**

Nino hesitates, twisting his mouth to the side. This is when he should call Chiyo and make sure Kato’s contacted her first.

Then again, if they meet up to play games, and then just _happen_ to talk about Kato’s movie, well…

_**I never really keep track of my schedule so I’ll have to ask my manager when I’m free** _

_**is she the one who gave you my #?** _

**next Tuesday and Wednesday I'm totally free, so let me know what suits you~**

**Isamu-san gave me your number and said we should get together**

Nino locks his phone and shoves it in his pocket. He bites his lip against the stinging feeling in the corners of his eyes.

“Hey.”

Aiba knocks his knee against Nino’s. Nino shakes his head. He stares out at their director, arguing with the hot air balloon operator in the pouring rain. What’s the point?

Frustrated, he pulls his phone back out.

_**I think Wednesday night might be good for me - I’ll let you know soon!** _

**later, then~ ( ^_^)/**

Aiba makes an unconvincing fake cough and Nino musters up a poker face for him.

“Wasn’t what I thought it was,” he explains, shrugging.

Aiba looks like he’s trying way too hard to figure out what that means. Nino turns away and digs through his bag for something distracting, settling on a manga volume he’s borrowed from Jun.

“It’s a little disgusting, though, isn’t it?” Aiba says after a minute. “A guy his age using emojis.”

Nino’s eyes start to sting again and he excuses himself to the bathroom, walking right out of the pavilion into the rain. A stylist comes running after him with an umbrella, yelling “Ninomiya-san! Ninomiya-san!” Nino turns on his heels, holding out his arms and raising his eyebrows. The stylist stops and steps back, embarrassed. It’s not fair to do that to her, he knows, but he needs to be left alone.

 

* * *

 

It’s dark by the time Nino starts to see anything familiar outside the windows of the van. Jun is up front, chatting with the assistant director quietly enough not to wake Aiba, snoring lightly in the middle passenger seat. In the other middle seat, Sho reads something on his phone, lighting up the back of the van in blue.

None of that really gives Nino an excuse to unbuckle his seatbelt and slide across the back seat to press against Ohno's side, but he does it.

Ohno wakes up and shifts so that he can get an arm around Nino’s shoulder and tuck Nino’s head under his chin.

The light from Sho's phone flickers. Nino catches his eyes as he turns in his seat to look back at them. He looks worried.

Nino isn’t sure what kind of face to make, so he just stares back, blankly, until Sho looks away.

He wonders what kind of face Ohno is making.


	6. Chapter 6

Nino grabs a soggy bento labeled “chicken cutlet” from the craft service table and takes a seat in a corner furthest away from the rest of the cast. No one seems to mind; he’s been friendly and talkative enough for the past two days that he can get away with it.

He starts to pull his game from his bag but something makes him check his phone first.

There's a text from Isamu:  **my agent is going to pick me up some real food would you like something?**

Nino looks to the other side of the room. Isamu is already eating at a table with his agent and two of the stylists. He looks up and smiles when he realizes Nino is watching him. Nino smiles back, keeping his eyes locked on Isamu's as he types:

_**sorry, new phone. who is this?** _

Isamu looks down at his phone on the table, then back up at Nino, openly shocked. Nino keeps smiling, even as he stuffs his mouth with chicken and rice, until Isamu gives in and breaks eye contact.

_Not even a miniboss,_ Nino thinks. 

His phone chimes again and he probably slaps his hand on the table too loudly before he picks it up. It's not Isamu, though; it's Ohno.

      **would you wear this?**

A picture of a black t-shirt follows. The graphic is a cartoon hamburger with arms and legs, smiling and raising a bloody knife. “KILLBURGER” is written in English underneath.

Nino hides a smile under his hand.

      _ **every day for the rest of my life,**_ he answers.

Suddenly, he's startled by a chair scraping across the floor. Fujihara sits down heavily across from him.

"Director," Nino nods, silencing his phone and setting his chopsticks to the side.

Fujihara grunts as he sits up and pulls something from his back pocket - a few pieces of copy paper stapled together and folded in thirds. He sets it on the table and sends it sliding in Nino's direction.

"Script revision," he says.

Taken aback by the personal delivery, Nino looks it over.

It’s for the final episode. Father Arita comes home to find Naoki sleeping in the master bedroom - that much is the same. Only now, instead of a tall dark hustler, it's Asuka stepping out of the bathroom in one of his robes.

Nino frowns down at the page but keeps his mouth shut.

"What do you think?"

Fujihara's watching him expectantly, leaning his elbows on the table. It's not a genuine question, more like a challenge.

"I think this probably wasn't your decision," Nino answers.

Fujihara sighs and slumps back in his seat. "And now I know it wasn't yours.”

Nino realizes immediately what this could mean, but he doesn’t want to believe it.

"Sorry,” he says, carefully. “I must be missing something."

"Your people called my people and asked if we might 'reconsider' the scene," Fujihara explains, taking off his glasses and slowly dragging his hands down his face.

An old familiar numbness washes over Nino. Automatically, he finds a grease stain on the table where he can fix his eyes.

"I see," is all he can say.

"I couldn't really believe you would do it. The way you've created the character...you _understand_ the script. I apologize for suspecting you. I just thought-" Fujihara stops short, perhaps realizing Nino isn't making any eye contact.

Nino knows what he thought: that surely Arashi isn't on the same tight leash as the other Johnnys talent, surely _they_ have some sway with the Company by now. Nino realizes, grimly, that he's let himself think the same absurd thing.

"What would you say if I told you I plan to at least film both versions?" Fujihara asks.

Nino chuckles under his breath. It's rude, and not the cute kind either, but he can’t seem to check himself in the face of this.

Tearing his eyes from the table to Fujihara’s openly anxious expression he answers: "I would say that I didn't know a thing about it until I arrived on set, and that I didn't want to question the director in front of the cast and crew."

Before Fujihara can respond, Nino excuses himself from the room.

 _ **he's a villain. why does it matter if he's gay?**_ he types furiously as he weaves between surprised staff members in the hall.

 **what are you talking about?** Chiyo answers immediately.

_**the script.** _

**I don’t understand**

_**it’s been changed.** **Naoki sleeps with the son’s girlfriend now.** _

**whaaaat?**

Nino stops just inside an empty stairwell, staring down at his phone. She didn’t know. He can’t hear her voice or see her face, but he’s sure of it.

**_the Company asked for the change_ **

**I had no idea**

**If I had known I would have warned you. I’m sorry.**

Nino leans back against the cool concrete wall of the stairwell, closing his eyes. Of course it was someone higher up than his personal manager who made the actual decision, but to bypass her completely... Julie? It doesn’t feel right. She’s never this reactionary. Only one person in the Company really is.

The numbness seems to almost have a sound, now, like bees buzzing.

 _Fuck_ he needs a cigarette.

**are you ok?**

Searching back through his messages, he copies Aiba’s photo of the blind item and sends it to her. He’s not sure why he does it. He hasn’t even known Chiyo for that long and he doesn’t have a particularly good reason to trust her. She puts up with him pretty well, but that’s her _job._

His phone vibrates with an incoming call alert.

“Hello.”

“Can you talk?”

“Kind of.”

“Is someone giving you trouble?”

It’s not what he expected to hear, and it takes him a moment to come up with a response.

“You’re pretty quick to believe what you read,” he says.

“I’m serious. If someone is giving you trouble we can do something about it.”

Nino feels a little surge of affection as he imagines his tiny, chubby manager roughing up some Nichome bartender on his behalf. He glances up through the stairwell quickly before answering her: “I’m not being blackmailed.”

“Honestly?”

“I _can’t_ be blackmailed.”

“No photos, then.”

“No photos,” Nino promises.  _None of my face, at least,_  he thinks.

“What are they thinking trying to change the script? It will only make the rumor worse."

Chiyo’s just as fired up when she says this, and it makes Nino smile.

“You know you won’t last long talking like that,” he warns, not unkindly.

“I won’t last long anyway. I’m pregnant.”

“Fucking _hell,_ ” Nino groans, sinking to the floor.

“Yeah, well, now we’ve both dropped a bomb today.”

“When do you go?”

“After the summer concert.”

Another new manager. Another month or more of awkward honorifics and polite text messages and “before you do that, Ninomiya-san, maybe I should check with the Company.”

“Do you want me to come there?” Chiyo asks.

“And what? Hold my hand?”

“Mmm, no. I told you day one - no touching.”

Nino lets out a laugh at that. “I’m acting like a child, aren’t I?”

“Well, they’re treating you like one. That makes it hard.”

“Shit, you really _are_ leaving."

He can’t remember the last time he’s heard staff speak so freely about the Company. It gives him an idea.

“Tell me something, since there's nothing to lose.”

“I don’t think I like this," Chiyo sighs.

“Were you warned about me?”

Chiyo is silent for a little too long, which is confirmation enough.

“About your attitude?” she asks. “Yeah.”

“What else did they warn you about?”

“Nino…”

“I’m just curious what words they used.”

“ _They_ don’t… Look, okay, we go out to drink sometimes, the female managers.”

“Really? I bet you hear some good stuff.”

“Well, we can’t talk about you all in public, obviously. So, we use nicknames.”

Nino cracks a smile again. This is more than he'd even hoped for.

"Did you make mine up or did you inherit it?"

"Inherited," Chiyo says, starting to sound hesitant again.

"Tell me." 

Nino can think of at least ten nasty names for himself right off the top of his head, but he's still not quite ready for her answer.

“Anything-That-Moves.”


	7. Chapter 7

Non-no decides to drive the five of them out to a sunflower field for a photo shoot. Sho and Aiba show up to the meeting spot early with snacks and magazines, obviously attempting to make it into a school trip. Nino tries to rise to that, but he just feels too exhausted. Even when Ohno climbs into the van and hands him the neatly-folded KILLBURGER shirt with a grin, all he can do is smile back and throw it over his chest like a blanket. After Jun finally arrives - fifteen minutes late with Starbucks - Nino leans his head against the window and closes his eyes.

He pretends to sleep for the whole ride. Aiba calls him out on it once, and they all leave a silent beat for him through three rounds of Magical Banana, but, eventually, they let it go.

That’s Arashi. Nothing’s really worth a fight.

He acts as normally as he can during the shoot, but the looks he gets back from the others and the crew tell him he’s not quite pulling it off.

Sho, Aiba, and Jun are grouped together for some close-up shots, so Nino takes a seat next to Ohno in one of the camp chairs the crew has set up for them. He reaches into the back pocket of his bag for his phone. It’s not there. He checks the front and side pockets, feels around the bottom of the bag and almost stabs himself with a pen - it’s not there. Nino lets the bag drop, watching listlessly as a notebook slides out into the dirt.

Restless, he walks to the edge of the clearing, up to the actual field, and stares into the swaying mass of flowers.

A minute later, Ohno’s standing next to him.

"Let's run," he says, just loud enough for Nino to hear.

Nino turns to look at the photography crew, then back to Ohno. He feels a strange sense of deja vu as Ohno grins over his shoulder before disappearing into the field.

Nino follows, quickly, before Ohno can lose him. He tries to be quiet so that no one hears them go, but Ohno’s practically yelling just ahead of him “Ahh, I can’t see anything! Ahhhhh! This is really scary! Where am I?”

Finally, Nino slams into Ohno’s back.

Ohno pulls him to the ground, giggling.

It's not wrestling, not really. It's more like taking turns pinning each other. Nino tries to keep some space between them when he does it, but he always fails. Eventually Ohno wears out and lies down with his head on Nino’s shoulder, laughing into his ear. Nino holds still, half-hard against Ohno’s leg.

When they first started horsing around like this, Nino was at an age where a light breeze was enough to get him going. In his thirties, what kind of excuse does he have? Ohno never asks Nino for excuses, though. He never acknowledges these things at all, no matter how obvious they are.

Looking up at the sky and the towering sunflowers swaying above them, Nino can't imagine feeling more miserable. He wants his bag; his games; his phone. He wants anything that would keep his hands and mind busy.

Ohno loves places like this. Ohno goes out on boats in the middle of the ocean where there’s no wireless service whatsoever - where a wave could just wash him out of existence and no one would know.

Nino likes being alone, sure, but not with his thoughts.

He opens his mouth to speak, to make sure Ohno hasn’t gone and fallen asleep on him, but something gets caught in his throat and all he can do is cough. Ohno sits up, giving him space, and Nino rolls on his side. The cough goes deeper, into his lungs, and he has tears in his eyes by the time he finally hacks a disgusting glob of spit into the grass.

He stares at it, catching his breath, and then he laughs.

He is actually, _physically,_ too old for this shit.

“Hey,” Ohno pulls Nino up into a sitting position, rubbing his back. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Nino croaks out, taking a few seconds to swallow and regain his voice. “I’m fine.”

Ohno sucks in his breath sharply.

“Shit.”

Nino follows Ohno’s gaze down to his pants and sees that there are grass stains all over them. A sick feeling pools in his belly as he reaches out and moves the collar of Ohno’s shirt to the side.

“Didn’t you have a necklace?”

Ohno touches his his hand to his throat, eyes wide. Without another word, the two of them start looking around the ground near their legs. Nino drags his hands through the dirt, hoping to catch on something metal.

“Ohno-san? Ninomiya-san?”

A female voice in the distance. The agent from Non-no, Nino thinks. He looks around, trying to remember which way they were facing when Ohno first tackled him.

Ohno is frozen, eyes fixed on the ground.

“What are you doing?” Nino snaps.

“LEADER!”

Aiba’s voice.

“NINO!”

Sho’s voice.

Ohno’s just staring at him, stupidly, and Nino feels a wave of anger. He wants to push him down again, right now, when he’s not expecting it.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Ohno confesses. He laughs when he says it.

Nino’s anger passes as quickly as it came, replaced by an aching helplessness that’s much more familiar.


	8. Chapter 8

_**August 27, 2009.** _

Nino adjusted the settings on his phone until he could get a decent photo of the city lights from where he stood at the edge of the stadium. He tried typing a message, but _**miss you**_ seemed empty, and **_wish you were here_** wasn’t really true. Why _was_ he sending her a photo, exactly? What she really wanted was a phone call. This would only make her more angry.

Lazy footsteps came scraping up the stairs behind him. Ohno. Nino hit send and folded his arms across his chest, against the breeze.

Ohno leaned in close to his ear, close enough that Nino could almost pretend Ohno’s voice was all in his mind.

“What do you think we’d have to do to get kicked out?”

Nino let out one dry laugh and took a step forward.

They hadn’t played that game in years.

_“Get matching dragon tattoos on our foreheads.”_

_“Learn Swahili, then refuse to ever speak Japanese again.”_

_“Sneak into Johnny’s office and take a shit on his desk.”_  
_“You’d have to go back and claim it to get kicked out, though.”_  
_“I know, I’d just rather be alone when I take the shit.”_

Back then, Nino might have suggested “strip naked and run through a park at three in the morning while screaming your name,” but apparently the times were changing.

Ohno stepped close to his back again. Nino couldn’t step forward any more unless he wanted to jump, so he tried to relax as Ohno put an arm around his waist.

“At this point? I have no idea,” Nino finally answered him, shrugging.

“Lately, when we’re filming anything live, I always think about yelling things.”

“I know what you mean. It gets quiet and you think ‘what if I just said-’”

“Fuuuuck!” Ohno whispered, loudly.

Nino giggled and Ohno squeezed him closer. Nino felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Ohno must have been able to feel it too, pressed as close as he was, but he didn’t acknowledge it.

“Nah, they’d find a way to spin it,” Nino theorized. “You’d go on a little vacation. American celebrities have that disease, right? ‘Exhaustion.’”

“I’m definitely exhausted.”

Ohno’s head was tucked so far into Nino’s neck when he spoke that Nino could practically feel the words on his skin. He shivered, and Ohno had to feel that just as clearly as Nino’s phone, still buzzing away.

The city lights seemed to blur together as an old forgotten knot twisted once more in Nino’s stomach.

As a teenager, it had excited him to hear Ohno say things like that. He had felt like a small part of Ohno’s rebellion - and Ohno had _always_ rebelled in one way or another; showing up late, wearing the wrong clothes, getting “lost” during filming. Sometimes Nino had gotten “lost” with him, hiding under stairwells and in storage closets like children, debating with each other how long they could stay away before the others got in trouble on their behalf.

Touching each other had eventually become a kind of rebellion, too. They had even made a skit about it, one that had cost the Company money and that the Company had _hated_ \- which meant it was perfect.

These days, they touched each other just as much when no one was looking, maybe more.

Nino didn’t feel thrilled anymore when Ohno joked about being trapped; he felt dread.

“What do you need to get kicked out for? You always do whatever you want.”

Silence followed Nino’s words, and he thought about how easily he could go over the ledge if Ohno would just give one tiny push. Ohno took a step back, leaving Nino to hug his own arms against the wind.

“You’re right,” Ohno said, his voice small. “I do whatever I want. That’s not really fair, is it?”

Nino turned and found Ohno staring out at the skyline with a sad expression.

“You get too thoughtful up here,” Nino scolded, pinching his arm playfully. He pulled Ohno’s hood over his head and yanked at the drawstring until Ohno’s face was almost entirely covered. He earned a tiny hint of a smile for his work. “Let’s go get someone to feed us.”

Nino held out his hand and Ohno took it.

 

* * *

 

_**August 28, 2009.** _

Day one was over, really over, and they were running down the hallway like teenagers. Nino couldn’t keep up, not laughing as hard as he was. Ohno turned and came back for him, grabbed his arm.

“I can’t,” Nino groaned, pretending to go limp.

Ohno wrapped his arms low on Nino’s waist and picked him up off the floor with more strength than any human should have left after what they’d done. Nino wheezed with laughter as Ohno dragged him towards the dressing room, then suddenly ducked around a corner into an unlit hallway and dropped Nino back on his feet again.

Smiling hysterically, Ohno brought his face close and whispered: “Ten years.”

Nino slumped back against the wall, trying to catch his breath.

“Ten _years!_ ” Ohno repeated.

“Not looking to get kicked out anymore?” Nino asked him, grinning.

“No.”

“Good. I need you here.”

“I need you, too,” Ohno said, leaning in to touch his forehead to Nino’s.

Ohno’s hand closed around the back of Nino’s neck. A sharp pain shot through Nino’s side, like the knot was back and it was made of barbed wire this time.

“Hey!” he warned, squirming.

Ohno kissed his forehead.

“Cut it out!”

Ohno kissed his temple, the side of his face.

“Stop!”

 _Don’t make it weird you fucking idiot,_ Nino tried to tell himself, _shut up shut up shut up!_ \- but the kisses were hard and long, and Ohno’s fingers were digging into his arms, and it was just too _much._ Ohno’s breath barely ghosted over Nino’s lips before he found himself shoving his hands at Ohno’s chest with every last bit of strength he had left.

Even then, running on nothing but fumes, he forced himself to laugh as Ohno stumbled backwards. “What’s wrong with you, stupid?”

“I’m sorry!”

If Nino weren’t so aware of being totally drained, he might have believed that Ohno’s eyes were a little wide and scared.

“You two!” Sho roared, somewhere just around the corner. “Come fucking toast with us!”

“Nino, I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

Telling his stomach to shove it for a second, Nino gave Ohno a quick peck on the cheek and a slap on the ass.

“You’d better go give the others some love, too, or they’ll be jealous,” he teased, turning the corner on wobbly legs and nearly falling into Jun.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Jun murmured, propping Nino up with one arm.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Nino snapped.

 

* * *

 

The toast was simple, as to be expected from Leader. “Ten years!”

Laughter and “bottoms up” and tears in Jun’s eyes even as he nagged them all to have one glass and then go sleep as soon as possible - Nino wanted to be in that moment.

So, he left the hallway and the ledge and the shitty text messages to his girlfriend all behind and melted back into Arashi. He tattled on Sho for forgetting lyrics, refilled Aiba’s drink every time he wasn’t looking, pinched Ohno when his eyelids started to droop, and then he fell asleep with his head in Jun’s lap, confident he would wake up tucked into bed later with some disgusting herbal “power tea” waiting for him on the nightstand.

Years ago, Nino had wanted to escape. Now, Arashi _was_ his escape.

He couldn’t let himself fuck that up.

 


	9. Chapter 9

"Risa's friend will take care of everything," Aiba promises.

By the time the four of them reach the rusted red metal door at the center of what feels like a labyrinth of back alleys, Nino is starting to wonder if "take care of everything" isn't some kind of horrible euphemism. As the door creaks open, Jun grabs for his elbow and even Ohno takes a step closer.

Of course, Risa's friend Tamiko is there, beaming and waving and whispering "Welcome!" as she ushers them inside. She leads them down a hallway with plush carpeting that doesn't quite soak up the sounds of the karaoke booths lining either side. Jun is still holding onto Nino's elbow, as if this part of the operation is actually more scary, and, to be fair, Nino does catch himself holding his breath when Tamiko motions for the four of them to stop before turning the corner. Finally, they make it to Risa's booth, where they're greeted with squeals and tambourine-shaking.

Tamiko reminds Risa to text her if they need anything and advises them not to use the service phone. Nino does a quick head count - five people, and Risa's the only one he recognizes. He expects Jun to object, but Jun just lets go of his arm and flops face-first on the cheap modular seating like he's run a gauntlet.

So, Nino loses his hat, slides into a seat next to the blondest of Risa's friends, and introduces himself as "Kazu."

 

* * *

 

After a beer and a shot, Nino doesn't think much of letting his new best friend Nanami sit in his lap while she belts out "Linda Linda" off-key.

Jun seems to think a great deal about it, glaring from the other side of the room and texting bits of unnecessary trivia he's picked up from Risa like **twenty years old!!** and **college student!!!**

It isn't until **ask about her favorite KAT-TUN member because she has one** that Nino finally starts to reevaluate his choices, which are slim to say the least. Ohno is already hitting it off with Less-Blonde. Kevin-from-Taiwan is probably gay, but speaks more English than Japanese and Nino is just not up for it.

After the second round of shots, Nanami is sound asleep on his shoulder, anyway. Risa laughs this off, but her other friends are worried enough to cut the night short and drag Nanami out the door.

That leaves Nino, Ohno, Jun and Aiba, each taking another shot at Risa’s insistence.

Aiba orders up an Arashi medley and Nino is drunk enough that he has to actually turn his face away to hide how annoyed he is.

He knows Aiba’s dragged them here to smooth things over after their “episode” during the Non-no shoot. How desperate he was to try and get Sho to come - even suggesting that he bring Mayumi with him - made it obvious enough.

The thing is, Nino doesn’t really want to be forgiven. Distracted, sure, but forgiven? Why? It won’t erase what his moody bullshit has done to their reputation, to their relationship, to Chiyo - who now has to walk on eggshells until August to make sure she doesn’t get fired before she can take maternity leave.

Nino feels himself sinking down into that place again. He wishes he at least had that girl’s hips to hang on to - whatever her name was.

Risa warbles her way through the first verse of Love So Sweet. Aiba and Jun join her in the chorus. Jun holds out his mic to Nino. _Sing with me. I forgive you. Let’s just be normal again._ It’s so transparent that Nino can’t stand it.

Nino’s fingers are sluggish as he searches through his bag for his cigarettes. He finds his pack, but is stopped by Ohno’s hand on top of his.

“s’kind of a small room,” Ohno mumbles, leaning in close.

They don’t smoke around Aiba in windowless spaces like this. Aiba’s never actually said anything about it, it’s just a thing they don’t do.

Nino forgot that for a second.

Ohno lets his weight fall completely on Nino’s shoulder, tucking his face into Nino’s neck. Nino locks eyes with Jun. Jun keeps on singing but his brow is furrowed in a way that’s familiar. Like a mudslide, Nino gets pulled back to the van on the day of the rained-out shoot - Sho’s face as he watched Nino and Ohno cuddle in the dark.

_They think you would._

_Can you blame them?_

“Do you want to get out of here?” Ohno asks, quietly.

“Yeah,” Nino breathes.

He stands up, letting Ohno fall, and walks out the door without a word. Tamiko tries to stop him when she catches him in the hall. Nino doesn’t realize why until he’s standing in the lobby with no face mask and no hat, in front of three women who are just checking in.

“Ninomiya?” one of the women asks, dumbstruck.

“No,” Nino tells her, heading out into the street.

 

* * *

 

Nino’s not much more sober by the time he gets home, but he is at least able to strip off his clothes and shower without falling over.

Lying in bed in the dark, he looks at the mass of missed calls and text messages Aiba and Jun have produced during his short cab ride.

 **you left yr hat**  
**u ok? feel sick?**

 **do you think your being cute???**  
**your***  
**youre***  
**you are***  
**please just txt me back can be anything**

There’s even a message from Ohno that just reads: **pls call**

Slowly, carefully, Nino types out a response.

      _ **you have no idea what I would do to you if you let me**_

He imagines hitting send. He imagines Ohno taking a cab over to find out what he means - impossible, because Ohno doesn’t know where Nino lives. He imagines Ohno hastily deleting the message and never texting him again.

He tosses his phone to the side and stares up at the ceiling. His phone makes a low chime - the noise that means "sent."

He barely makes it to the bathroom before vomiting.

 

* * *

  

After walking a few laps around the block, Nino's legs won't hold out any longer. He stumbles back into his apartment, beyond exhausted. The point of all this is to go right to sleep without even the energy to look at his phone, but it doesn't work.

    1:51 AM:   _ **you have no idea what I would do to you if you let me**_

    2:24 AM:   **goodnight**


	10. Chapter 10

Ohno stops sending his goodnight texts, which makes things a bit easier. He does still send the occasional photo of a bar napkin sketch or a particularly weird storefront display, and Nino responds, leaving them somewhere close to normal. Still, Nino can’t shake the suspicion that their interactions during and after filming are a bit stilted - more of a show for the other members than anything else. He’s had more experience pissing off the others, so it’s easier to tell when they’re over it.

They all have to get over it quickly when concert prep kicks into gear. Between choreography and fittings and endless emails from Jun, they don't have time to think about anything else. Nino's thankful for the timing of things. During concerts their roles in the group are the most defined; he doesn't have to guess what the others want from him, he can do it before they even ask.

Nino only catches himself slowing down once - when he spends ten minutes agonizing over whether to pack the KILLBURGER t-shirt in his tour bag. He ends up packing it and wearing it to their first tech rehearsal. Ohno comes in the door in his old “Hell Taxi” shirt, and for the first time in weeks Nino feels like they share a genuine smile.

Sho laughs and dubs the two of them “Team Nothing-Is-Safe.” It reminds Nino of his manager nickname, and he thinks about sharing it with them. It would feel good to hear the four of them laugh it off. He decides he would rather keep as much distance between himself and the past month as possible, though. The fact that Sho is speaking to him at all beyond “have you eaten lunch?” is progress.

Aiba and Jun have also climbed off Nino’s back - for the most part. Jun moreso because he is in concert mode. He still threatens Nino with the prospect of talking about “it" when they have "time."

Nino thinks the chances of everyone forgetting "it" in the middle of summer concert chaos are pretty good, though.

Hell, Nino even manages to forget until one night when Chiyo sends him a text from just outside their dressing room that **the final episode aired with the original ending \o/**

His stomach flips when he reads the message, but he answers with a teasing _**way to ruin it for me! I was recording it for later!**_

The next morning, catching a ride from the hotel with Nino and Jun, Chiyo announces that Nino's new name is "Prince Bullshit." Jun doesn't understand the context, of course, but that doesn't stop him from gleefully spreading this news around as soon as they reach their dressing room.

Ohno stops in the middle of his breakfast to push his chair back, get down on one knee, and kiss Nino’s hand.

“My liege.”

Nino flicks Ohno’s forehead and is pleased to note that Aiba catches this on his documentary camera.

This is their normal. He’s missed it.

 

* * *

 

It's past midnight and Nino is still sprawled out on Ohno's hotel bed, tears in his eyes from laughing at the seventh skateboarding dog video Aiba's texted them in thirty minutes.

Nino pulls his own phone from his pocket and types _**come over here**_

**sorry, I really need to sleep**

**have fun with Leader ;)**

"Oh, this one has sunglasses!" Ohno wheezes, nudging Nino's elbow.

Nino smiles at the pathetic state this sight has brought upon Ohno, but his hand is still gripped tight around his own phone.

"Well, it's late," he says, sitting up.

"You're leaving?"

Nino pauses, one foot off the bed, and looks back. “Yeah.”

"Why?" Ohno asks.

He asks it as if it were a perfectly normal question to ask. It's not like Nino doesn't have a perfectly normal answer to give him. Even a sarcastic answer would work. Anything would be better than what he actually says, which is: “Should I stay?”

Ohno smiles, reaching out his hand. Nino drops his phone and takes it, letting Ohno pull him back on the bed and into the crook of his arm.

"It's late, huh?" Ohno switches to the home screen on his phone to look at the time. "Ah, shit."

With that, he stretches out his free arm to turn out the lamp.

In the dark, it's easier relax into Ohno, even when he turns and knocks their foreheads together.

They have slept almost this close before. Nino can manage. He rests his arm on Ohno's waist, because he's pretty sure that's how he remembers it.

Then Ohno runs his hand from Nino's elbow down to his wrist and slowly back up again. Nino has no frame of reference for that, and niether does his dick.

He starts to turn away, then realizes how obvious that would be and stops in an awkward position on his back. Ohno, unfazed, rests his head on Nino's shoulder. They stay like that for a long time; Ohno's breath hot against Nino's neck, Nino biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself from shaking.

Just when Nino thinks Ohno must finally be asleep, he feels Ohno's lips brush against his neck, right at his pulse.

He could scream.

Instead, he turns his whole body towards Ohno and holds Ohno's head in his hands while he kisses him, hard and deliberate. Ohno makes a muffled surprised sound, and a dark part of Nino wants _more_ and _louder._ He bites at Ohno’s bottom lip. Ohno opens his mouth and lets Nino in. He has no idea what he’s done.

“Idiot,” Nino breathes, rolling Ohno onto his back and sliding his hands up under his shirt.

The muscles of Ohno’s back, the angle of his hips, his stomach - hard from weeks of rehearsing; they’re all things Nino’s touched before, things he’s memorized. Ohno gasps and Nino can feel the sound in his fingertips. He freezes, staring down at where he can just make out the shape of his hand on the waistband of Ohno’s shorts.

“Tell me to stop,” he says.

He feels Ohno’s fingers brush his jaw and he looks up. Ohno stares back at him, wide-eyed, but he doesn’t speak. Nino pushes Ohno’s hand away and leans down to bite at the curve of his neck.

This is when Ohno should warn him to be careful with his teeth, but he won’t even say that much. It’s enough to make Nino want to mark him all over.

“Tell me to stop,” he says again, against Ohno’s ear.

Ohno arches under him and grabs his hand, shoving it down the front of his shorts.

 

* * *

  
It’s not like Nino thought this could never happen. He’s always known he was capable of it. He’s even gone as far as to fantasize about it in his weaker moments.

Never in his fantasies were the two of them stone-cold sober like this. It slows Nino down, makes him second-guess every tiny hitch of Ohno’s breath, until he’s got the thick weight of Ohno on his tongue and then things move too fast.

He could still stop if Ohno would just fucking _tell him to._ Ohno won’t say “stop,” though. He won’t say anything. He just moans wordlessly, grabbing at the sheets and then tugging at Nino’s hair. Nino reaches up to hold his hand there. It takes a minute, but Ohno finally gets the idea and pushes Nino’s head down.

Ohno's dick rubs against the roof of Nino’s mouth and Nino hopes that Ohno doesn’t notice him rubbing himself helplessly against the bed. He feels Ohno pushing the hair away from his forehead and he squeezes his eyes shut. _Don’t **look** you idiot._ The thought takes him out for a second and he almost gags. He pulls off and props himself up on his arms, catching his breath.

“Nino?”

It’s the first thing Ohno’s said since kissing him and it’s enough to get Nino back between his legs. Ohno hesitates, then tangles his fingers in Nino’s hair again and pushes up into his mouth. Nino swallows around him.

“Fuck, oh, fuck, fuck,” Ohno suddenly whispers, panicked. “What do I do? What do I do?”

Nino makes the most encouraging noise that he can with his mouth full. Ohno seems to understand, tightening his grip on Nino’s hair and letting his hips move just enough to push himself over the edge. He splashes hot against the back of Nino’s throat and Nino has to curl his fingers into the sheets to keep himself from moaning.

After a beat of silence, Ohno breathes out a surprised “oh.”

Nino winces, rolling onto his side and catching his breath for just a second before getting his feet on the floor. He needs to go. He needs out, immediately, before that surprise wears off.

“Wait.”

Ohno gropes blindly for him in the dark, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. Nino sits down on the edge of the bed, facing away, and waits.

Ohno guides Nino’s shirt up until Nino lifts his arms and lets it go. He presses the palms of his hands into Nino’s back, pushing gently out from his spine, up and down. It’s part of a cool-down massage they’ve given each other after rehearsal thousands of times. It’s never made Nino want to cry before.

Ohno lays wet kisses across Nino’s shoulders, pausing to rest his head against the back of Nino’s neck. Finally - or suddenly, the two feelings are so mixed up - he slides his hand down past the waistband of Nino’s trunks.

“Like this?” he asks under his breath.

Ohno wraps his perfect artist fingers around Nino’s dick and Nino is sure that he will not last ten seconds. He lets his head roll to the side and shivers as Ohno nips at his neck.

“Like this,” Ohno repeats, chuckling quietly against Nino’s skin.

Nino aches with embarrassment, but his other needs are stronger. He finds himself reaching his arm back at an awkward angle to touch some part of Ohno, any part.

Then, without a word, Ohno slides down to the floor, on his knees.

“No,” Nino tries to say, but his throat is too dry.

Ohno looks up at Nino, smiles, and then licks a long stripe up the underside of his dick. Nino makes a noise that someone _has_ to be able to hear.

“No, no, wait,” Ohno mumbles, climbing up over Nino’s body and nudging him towards the head of the bed.

Nino catches on and moves quickly, shoving pillows under his back. He looks down at Ohno settling between his legs until he just _can’t._

“Okay?” Ohno asks.

Nino nods at the ceiling, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Hey.”

Cringing, Nino forces himself to look at Ohno’s face.

“Is this okay?”

Ohno looks worried - not about what he’s doing, but about Nino. Nino nods more deliberately this time, hand still held over his mouth. Ohno smiles again and Nino looks back up at the ceiling to keep himself from trying decipher it.

By the time he comes - in Ohno’s mouth, because Ohno doesn't stop, even when Nino warns him - his throat is scratched raw from trying to hold back his voice.

He gets up and heads for the bathroom. His knees are weak and he has to steady himself on the sink once he’s in. He feels around the counter only to send something metal clanging to the floor. Defeated, he turns on the light.

His hair is sticking out in every direction, his lips are red and swollen - _anyone would know._

He looks down again and finds the hotel’s complimentary mouthwash. Ohno shuffles in behind him as he’s spitting into the sink. Head down, Nino goes back into the room to find his clothes. He dresses quickly while Ohno brushes his teeth - but not quickly enough.

“Hey,” Ohno says, softly. “Was it that bad?”

He just barely manages to make it sound like a joke.

Nino’s heart sinks like a stone.

“What? No!”

He steps towards Ohno where he’s hanging in the bathroom door and wraps his arms around Ohno’s neck. It’s both familiar and absurdly strange, with Ohno still naked.

“I just thought I should-” he starts.

“Don’t,” Ohno interrupts.

“Don’t think?”

Ohno nudges him back towards the bed. Nino sits down, anxious, then laughs as Ohno pushes up his shirt and fumbles for his fly.

“There’s no way I can go again,” he says, even though the urgent way Ohno tugs at his clothes does make him wonder.

“I know. Just-” Ohno grunts, frustrated, as he tosses Nino’s clothes to the side. “Just stay.”

Ohno sits heavily next to Nino on the bed. He sniffs and rubs at his face in a way Nino immediately recognizes.

It’s all wrong.

“What is it?” he asks after he can’t wait any longer.

“It’s hard,” Ohno says, something between a sob and a laugh.

Nino can’t bring himself to look at Ohno’s face anymore, but he can grab his hand and squeeze until it hurts.

“If you don’t want to stay you don’t have to. We can just-” Ohno’s breath catches. “You know, we can…”

“I know.”

“But don’t go because you think I want you to. I don’t.”

 _You do, though,_ Nino thinks. _That's how this works._

He doesn’t know how to say that, though, so he just says: “Okay.”

“Okay?”

Nino lets go of Ohno’s hand and pulls him close. Ohno buries his face in Nino’s neck and lets out a shaky sigh. Nino chews on his already-abused bottom lip and stares out into the darkness of the room. He has nothing for this. No plan whatsoever.

He guides Ohno back into bed, under the covers. Mercifully, Ohno doesn’t talk. He just runs his hands through Nino’s hair and kisses the side of his face.

“Don’t think,” Nino whispers.

Ohno lets out a tiny, frustrated laugh. “I won’t if you won’t.”

Closing his eyes, Nino tries.


	11. Chapter 11

Nino groans when he wakes up to the sounds of “SUNRISE! NIPPON!” blaring from his phone. Aiba must have guessed his lock screen password again at some point. He finds it where he left it on the floor last night, battery nearly drained. He hasn't missed a single text or phone call, which seems impossible.

Turning back to the bed he finds Ohno still fast asleep.

“How do you even function?” he wonders aloud.

Just then, Ohno's phone lights up on the nightstand and lets out a shrill metallic beep. Ohno jerks awake and reaches for it, but Nino is in the way. Nino picks up the phone and puts it in Ohno's hand and Ohno finally opens his eyes. He stares up at Nino, blinking, like he can't remember why he's there.

“Good morning!” Nino says, obnoxiously loud because that's what he would do under any other circumstances.

Ohno smiles and Nino has to look away to keep from smiling back. He gets up and starts collecting his clothes.

“I sort of thought you might sneak off after I fell asleep,” Ohno admits.

“I thought I might, too,” Nino lies as he shimmies into his pants. “But then you rolled on top of me and I couldn't escape.”

“Sorry I'm so powerful,” Ohno sighs.

Nino chuckles, hazarding a glance in Ohno's direction. He doesn't seem in any hurry to get out of bed, yawning and rubbing his eyes as he looks at his phone.

“Hey, get up and check if anyone's in the hallway,” Nino asks, giving Ohno's shoulder a shove.

“Do _what?_ ”

“Just poke your head out and look around.”

“Why?”

“So no one sees me coming out of your room,” Nino explains, holding back an _obviously._

Ohno still seems confused, though. He sets his phone to the side and runs a hand through his hair, looking around the room and then back at Nino.

“Does it matter if someone sees you?”

Nino opens his mouth to answer when it hits him - it really _doesn't_ matter. The two of them could walk out of Ohno's room holding hands in front of the entire concert staff and no one would say a word. Nino could sit down next to Sho at breakfast today and say “Guess who gave Captain a BJ last night?” and Sho would _laugh._

Thrown by this realization, Nino sits back down on the bed. Ohno reaches out and links his fingers loosely around Nino's wrist.

“We're going to be okay tonight, right?” he asks.

Nino rolls his eyes and shakes off Ohno's hand.

“Get up and get ready for work you lazy shit,” he scolds.

Ohno laughs and grabs at Nino as he tries to get out of bed. Nino lets himself be pulled down. Ohno climbs on top, moving to pin him, then leans in to kiss him instead. Nino kisses back faster than his mind can recall all the reasons why he shouldn't. Just as anxiety finally starts to creep in, Ohno rolls away, giggling.

“I forgot I was naked,” he confesses, pulling the covers up to his waist.

“It's a little late to worry about that!” Nino scoffs, earning only more inane giggles.

Nino makes another attempt to climb out of bed, and this time he actually makes it into his slippers. The giggles die down to a thoughtful hum.

“I guess we can't right now, anyway,” Ohno murmurs.

 _We can't tomorrow or the next day, either,_ Nino thinks, but he doesn't have the heart to leave on that.

“I'll see you at work,” he says, hoping Ohno will understand.

A tiny shift in Ohno's expression as he nods shows Nino that he does. “See you then.” 

 

* * *

 

As sure as Nino was in the morning that he couldn't give away this secret if he tried, he feels no desire to test the theory now that he's face-to-face with the others.

He really doesn't need to, anyway, since Jun spends half of dress run panicking about a lighting malfunction while the four of them squint and nod and pretend they can see what he's talking about.

Is there a chance Nino did something last night outside of his usual routine of room service and Dragon Quest? Who cares?

The fact that it isn't his secret alone also makes things different, but not in the way he expects. Ohno doesn't avoid him – if anything he sticks closer to Nino than usual. They laugh together; loudly first, at Sho trying to defend an especially sad cartwheel, and then quietly, covering their mouths, at Aiba's inability to hide his terror when Jun stops in the middle of talking to staff to yell up at the stage: " _Why_ are those gloves still on your hands?”

Standing next to Ohno, connected by this thread that the others can't see - it actually feels familiar. Nino doesn't recognize exactly what it is until later, during the pre-show huddle.

As Jun addresses them all with the passion of a man about to ride into battle, Ohno's hand slips from Nino's shoulder to his lower back. Nino glances at him. Ohno keeps his eyes fixed on Jun, but there's a tiny hint of a smirk on his lips.

Ohno's rebellion. After years of refusing to have anything to do with it, here Nino is. A great victory.

It should probably make he feel used. At the least, he should feel angry. He doesn't feel either of those things, though. He feels excited.

On stage that night, the two of them are better than okay – they are _amazing._


	12. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( **2017 update:** I promised a sequel to this fic way back when and...that still hasn't happened. I'm sorry for being a tease! I do genuinely plan on continuing this story at some point, though - hopefully this year!)

For two weeks after the concert, Nino is basically free other than variety filming. The first few days he does nothing but sleep and eat. It's not unusual for him, of course, but it has started feeling more and more  _necessary_ over the years.

On one of these shower-and-change-into-clean-sweatpants days, his afternoon nap is interrupted by a message from Ohno.

**do you want to see some stuff I’ve been working on?**

_**art?**  _ Nino guesses.

**yeah**

_**sure, show me** _

**it’s at my place**

Directions to Ohno's apartment follow. Nino is dressed and holding his keys in his hand before he even thinks to text back and make sure that Ohno meant "now."

 

* * *

 

Nino feels restless. It’s like he can’t stop himself from bouncing from place to place, picking up and playing with all the various knick-knacks that litter Ohno's shelves. Ohno doesn’t seem bothered; explaining where every little thing came from and why he’s kept it. Some of his reasons are simple (“it looks kind of like a skipjack, doesn’t it?”), others go into long-winded stories that Nino ends up cutting off (“there was this old man in the bar who was just sitting there whittling this and we watched him for an hour I think before-”).

He finds himself in Ohno’s tiny corner kitchen. Without asking, he opens the fridge and squats down to take a look.

“Would you like something to drink?” Nino asks in his most hospitable voice.

“What do you have?” Ohno giggles out.

“Not a single bottle of Kirin,” Nino sighs. “Shame on me.”

“Asahi then, please.”

Nino grabs them both a can. He leans back against the fridge as he opens his, never breaking eye contact with Ohno.

“Staring contest?” Ohno asks, eyes bugging.

Nino shakes his head and takes a sip of his beer.

“What now, then?” Ohno asks.

“You wanted to show me your artwork.”

“Oh, right.”

“But not really.”

“No,” Ohno shrugs. “Not really.”

Nino covers his mouth to keep from spitting up his drink. Ohno snickers. They stand there, giggling like idiots between sips of beer, until Ohno sets his on the counter and steps into Nino’s space.

“You brought me here to fuck me,” Nino says, because it’s true.

Ohno grins and it’s a face Nino knows, a face that means they are about to do something stupid together. Nino feels a familiar guilty thrill, but it’s concentrated to the point it almost makes him dizzy. This is, without a doubt, _the absolute most stupid thing_ they have ever done together.

 

* * *

 

After the second night in a week that Nino spends at Ohno's apartment - fucking, watching TV, ordering delivery food, then fucking again - Ohno sends a message to let Nino know that he’s going on a fishing trip.

**I’ll be back Sunday night**

**I won’t have phone service most of the time**

This is the perfect opportunity to tell Ohno to stop texting so often. Nino even starts typing a message to that effect, but he deletes it three words in.

**_you’d better catch me something big_**

**swordfish?**

**_great white shark_**

**you got it**

If Nino isn't careful, he'll start thinking. So, he decides that today is a day for marathon gaming. He heads down to the corner grocery and fills a basket with all of the disgusting snacks he missed out on while preparing for the concert. He drags his good swivel chair into the living room and preemptively throws a blanket over his shoulders. The title screen to his new game comes up and Nino finally, blissfully, steps out of himself.

Sometime around three in the morning, when his eyes are so tired that it hurts to blink, his phone chimes again.

**no great white today but I won’t give up!**

Nino smiles and waits for what he knows is coming.

**goodnight**

 


End file.
